


Taako and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Emotional Crisis

by teyla



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: All of the spoilers, Angst, Banter, Fluff and Angst, Let Kravitz Have a London Accent, M/M, Minor Lucretia & Taako, Minor Lup & Taako, Post-Episode: e067-069 Story and Song Parts 1-3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 13:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teyla/pseuds/teyla
Summary: He doesn’t talk about it, not until Kravitz spends a whole evening cranking his charm up to eleven. At first, Taako thinks he’s in for a night of sweet romance, but that hope is sorely disappointed when Kravitz sits him down and asks what’s been eating him lately.“Not you, that’s for sure.”Kravitz makes a long-suffering face, and Taako lets himself fall back into the pillows. “Nothing’s eating me. Everything is. Life’s been a little weird, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Relationships: Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 137





	Taako and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Emotional Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [domirine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/domirine) for encouragement and beta!

The days right after they defeat the Hunger are maybe the weirdest Taako’s lived through in his eventful life.

Don’t get him wrong, it’s not being famous. He’s been famous before. _Sizzle It Up_ had a decent fan base in its day, and thanks to his returned memories, he now knows that _Sizzle It Up_ was not his first success in showbiz. Apparently, over a hundred years ago on a distant world across several dimensions, he had another well-established cooking show. Cue the-more-you-know rainbow.

Stardom means selling carefully-selected pieces of yourself, constructing a stripped-down reality that omits all those idiosyncrasies that make a real person. Having the story of your life broadcasted across all dimensions is different. All of his failures exposed, his bonds and loves and priorities laid bare—he supposes he’s lucky they ended up saving the world. As far as pulling a stunt to distract from a too-personal news item goes, saving the world’s a pretty good one.

They do that, and then they celebrate. They go to Neverwinter and are greeted with cheers and laughter. Davenport, Merle, Magnus. Barry and Lup, followed around by Kravitz, who’s eying them and waiting for his moment. That’s a conversation they’ll have to have soon.

It’s not what Taako’s thinking about as he’s out there shaking hands and signing whatever adoring fans shove at him. He’s thinking about seven birds: captain, healer, protector. Two undead scientists, one celebrity chef too popular for his own good. And a journal keeper.

She’s right there with them, like she still belongs. They end up standing shoulder to shoulder, smiling and waving, and fuck yeah, he’s good at this. This is the show now, and the show must go on.

Between tours, they go back to the moon. It’s changed; a lot of people have left now that the Bureau’s fulfilled its purpose. It’s almost like the _Starblaster_ again. Avi’s around and Merle is not (he’s with those kids of his), but that’s about the only difference. That, and the fact that here, off-stage, Taako’s not talking to Lucretia.

He’s never been one to see a cold-shoulder treatment through. For all his cultured air of vindictiveness, he doesn’t particularly care for holding grudges. If he really has a problem with someone, a well-aimed fireball is a much better way of driving his point home than prolonged, haughty silence.

It’s not what this is. He takes no satisfaction in avoiding someone who wormed her way into his heart not once, but twice. The initial mission of the _Starblaster_ crew, taking a prototype out for a short publicity spin, required a journal keeper, and it required a celebrity to live-cast the experience to the watchful public. Lucretia got the job because she knew how to take minutes; he got the job because his cooking show (the first one, not the second, try to keep up) had earned him a considerable following. Neither he nor Lucretia were supposed to spend more than a couple of weeks in space. On the _Starblaster_’s long, haphazard, and entirely unplanned journey, they found camaraderie in the knowledge that neither of them were really meant to be there at all.

Missing that camaraderie feels like missing an old school friend. Missing Lucretia as Madame Director of the Bureau of Balance is a whole other pair of heels. It’s missing the first person who put any level of trust in him after Glamour Springs, who offered him a purpose beyond survival. Sometimes, when he thinks about that, he catches himself wishing he’d never regained his memories at all. He doesn’t like it when that happens. It makes him almost as mad at himself as he is at her.

Then there’s Lup being a floaty lich-ghost. He never really got the chance to come to terms with her decision to do that to herself. Granted, he didn’t try too hard—as long as she had her body, thinking about her lichdom was quite easily avoided. These days, every time he looks at her, all he can think about is that red-robed skeleton in the cave near Phandalin. There’s nothing wrong with what he did that day—in fact, Lup’s lucky he felt more greedy about her possessions than creeped out by her earthly remains—but guilt’s a pain in the ass like that. It doesn’t listen to reason.

One of the things Lup lost along with her body is her ability to, well, eat. It bothers Taako more than he likes to admit. No matter how good he’s become at the fireball-and-thunderwave kind of magic, now that he remembers her, he knows that this sort of spectacle was always Lup’s thing. His magic’s of a subtler variety, as improbable as it sounds. In Glamour Springs, he lost the taste (hah hah) for using magic in the kitchen, but knowing what he knows now, he’s aware that that’s what he does. Magic’s a tool in his repertoire just like blanching, flambéing, and twirling his wrist just right to make flipping pancakes look like a walk in the park.

Lup doesn’t eat pancakes anymore. She hasn’t even tried the spicy ground-meat shells that Joaquin taught Taako how to make. Taako hasn’t offered. Who offers food to a ghost? That’s just stupid.

So that’s two people he’s missing even though they’re right there. It doesn’t make sense, so he doesn’t talk about it, not until Kravitz spends a whole evening cranking his charm up to eleven. At first, Taako thinks he’s in for a night of sweet romance, but that hope is sorely disappointed when Kravitz sits him down and asks what’s been eating him lately.

“Not you, that’s for sure.”

Kravitz makes a long-suffering face, and Taako lets himself fall back into the pillows. “Nothing’s eating me. Everything is. Life’s been a little weird, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Your life’s always been weird, Taako.”

_Not like this_. There’s a skylight above his bed (heroes get the penthouse), and he stares through it at a splash of stars. “Have you ever been alive, Krav?”

The mattress dips. As Taako peers down, he sees Kravitz rubbing his hands together to warm them up. “You know I have.”

“Like a million years ago.” He rolls onto his stomach, safely out of Kravitz’ reach.

Kravitz sighs and drops his hands. “What are you getting at?”

“The void fish doesn’t work on the undead. When you met me, you knew how many times I’d died.”

Kravitz is the fucking master of pointed silences. Piercing black eyes stare, and it’s pretty damn aggravating. If any question is justified, it’s that one. Without thinking, Taako grabs a small pillow and chucks it. “Stop looking at me like that!”

He’s embarrassed the moment he lets go. The pillow bounces off of Kravitz’ shiny black hair. Kravitz jumps, and Taako sticks his face into the covers. “Go away.”

The mattress moves, but the weight on it doesn’t disappear. There’s a rustle of clothes, Kravitz settling in to wait. Fucking undead son of a bitch, he knows he can outlast Taako any day.

“Don’t think I’m not just gonna let you sit there.”

Kravitz says nothing. Play to your strengths, Taako can respect that. After a while, it’s like Krav’s not even there—he does tend to breathe; it’s too unsettling when he doesn’t, but Taako’s not sure he’s doing it right now.

“I knew how many times you’d died, yes.”

It’s been half an eternity. He’s not gonna let him win this easy, though.

“I knew how you’d died, too. My favorite—”

“Shut up.” Krav got him there. Taako’s not about to let that fly, though. “You’re my fucking boyfriend. You don’t get a favorite way Taako died.”

“All right.”

Then it’s silence again, and okay, he gets Kravitz’ play now. It’s too late; he’s too curious. “Which one was it?”

There’s a barely-there smirk in Kravitz’ voice. “You remember that time you got high with Merle?”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“You know the time I’m talking about. It was a jungle planet, and you two were experimenting.”

Taako rolls onto his side, grabs a pillow to hug to his chest. “That one’s boring. I just fell asleep.”

“Yeah.” The room is dark, the only light being the stars shining in through the window. Krav’s face is cast in so many shadows that Taako’s not sure if he’s human or Death right now. “You just fell asleep. I’ve seen a lot of death, Taako. Falling asleep is about the best it gets.”

To his horror, Taako feels his cheeks grow hot. His eyes start to itch, and his body feels heavy. He lies very still, waits for the feeling to pass. “So.” His voice sounds even thinner than normal. “Do you just know everything about me?”

Kravitz moves into the light. He’s got his face on, dark eyes under heavy lashes. Beautiful as ever, except when he’s a skull. “No.” The word’s got enough gravitas to crush a convent. “I know a lot, but I don’t know everything. For example, I don’t know what you’re thinking right now.”

“Very smooth.” Taako sticks his nose into the pillow in a not-so-furtive attempt to wipe it. “It’s like it’s your job to talk to people in an emotional crisis.”

“Are you?”

He walked into that one. He did so mostly intentionally, so he’s got some dignity left. “I don’t know. I don’t have—words? I don’t have anything. It’s like trying to describe an acid trip. I’ll just end up sounding off the absolute shits.”

Kravitz patiently says nothing. Taako’s breath explodes out of him, and he flips onto his back. “Those are not my stars.” He points up at the skylight, waves a hand at the brilliant band of light splashed across the sky. “They’re not what Baby Taako saw when he looked up at the sky, they’re not—mine. But they feel like mine. They feel more like mine than Lup does these days.”

“They are yours.”

The mattress shifts again, and ice-cold fingers brush against Taako’s. They make him jump, but instead of pulling back like a normal person, he clamps his hand around Kravitz’.

“This is what I mean.” He can feel his voice snag, stares up at those stars to find the courage to keep talking. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you, but you’re the fucking grim reaper. I have to warm you up through hugging before we have sex. It’s _weird_.”

“I—” Kravitz’ fingers in his palm are already approaching a more normal temperature. “To be fair, I told you about that on our first date.”

“That is not the point at all.” He finds Kravitz’ eyes, wonders not for the first time if they just are that black, or if they’re actually a raven’s. “You’re the most familiar thing to me in this world, and you’re literal Death. There’s something messed up about that.”

“You brought death with you when you came here.” The words twist his insides together, but Kravitz has got him pinned with a stare that allows no evasion. “You also brought life. It’s life that begets death, Taako, so—if you really want to make this weird, you could look at yourself as an avatar of life.”

“Now you’re off the absolute shits.” Kravitz’ hand in his own feels reassuringly warm now. “I didn’t beget you, Krav. That makes it sound like I’m your dad.”

“You’re not old enough to be my dad.”

“There is that, at least. Between the two of us, I’m still the jailbait.”

Kravitz smiles, and with his warmed-up hand reaches up to brush Taako’s hair out of his face. “You’ve lived much more than I have,” he says. “I don’t blame you for being confused. I couldn’t fit your last ten years into my brain, let alone your last century. Do you even keep count of how many worlds you’ve saved?”

“Should be about an even hundred. Are we counting doubles?”

There’s something pleasing about watching crow’s feet appear on the face of a man who serves a raven goddess. Taako supposes there’s a joke in there, but he’s distracted by a rare urge to confess.

“I don’t really care about those worlds, Krav. I mean—it’s nice? It’s nice that they’re back. Nicer than them being digested inside the Hunger, but—if someone gave me a choice. I get to keep you or those worlds. Or Lup or those worlds, or even—fuck it, yeah, even Lucretia or those worlds. It’s never gonna be the worlds for me, Krav. What use is a world if I don’t fucking know anybody in it?”

The stars are suddenly too bright. He closes his eyes, feels Kravitz trace his fingers across his forehead and temple. It’s silence again, and he grits his teeth. “I swear, if you don’t say something right now, I’m returning you and buying an Alexa.”

“A what?”

Taako shrugs. “They talk, apparently.”

Kravitz exhales a sharp breath. When Taako opens his eyes, Kravitz is looking right at him.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” ‘What’ comes out missing its ‘t’. Kravitz claims to only do the accent on the job, but Taako’s discovered it comes through on occasion, usually when Kravitz’ patience is being tested. “It’s a fucked-up choice. Nobody makes that choice and walks away feeling good about it.”

“I don’t know, my dude. I think Madame Director felt just fine about her scheme. All she was lacking was an evil mustache.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

He thinks about the way Lucretia’s plastered-on smile wavers whenever their eyes meet during a public event. Back here on the base, she’s tried to speak to him a couple of times, but there were more times she didn’t get that far—one look from him was all it took to send her scampering away. He wets his lips and ignores an uncomfortable twinge of what could be guilt as much as it could be satisfaction. “Maybe I don’t. But honestly, Krav, what good does her feeling bad about it do me? I’m stuck piecing my life back together either way. Let me tell you, the two bits go together about as well as bacon and French toast.”

“Is there something wrong with bacon and French toast?”

“You’re a disgrace.”

With a snort, Kravitz moves closer. The hand that lands on Taako’s stomach is still warm enough, but the rest of Kravitz is at his customary icicle temperature. Taako squeals, squirms away to make his protest known, but he still somehow ends up with Krav plastered against his back. The guy’s like a fucking lizard and starts warming up immediately, so after not too long, it’s even kind of comfortable.

“You wanna know what I think?”

Kravitz’ words tickle some air against the back of Taako’s neck. Taako smiles despite himself. “You know, Krav, I do. That’s kind of the whole point, right? I’m not telling you this out of the goodness of my heart; there is an ulterior motive here.”

“Yeah, well,” and now Krav’s nuzzling the spot he breathed on, “I think that you don’t even want to be mad. At her, or at anyone.”

“I think you’re underestimating me.”

“Am I?”

It’s Taako’s turn to stay silent, pensive at first, but then dissolving into giggles as Kravitz worms a hand under his shirt.

“Why do you care so much, anyway?” Kravitz is holding him in a tight embrace, a smirk in his voice as he nibbles on the tip of Taako’s ear. “You’re an elf. You live a million billion years. This doesn’t have to be more than a footnote.”

“It’s a little more than that.”

“Not if you don’t want it to be.”

“I’m—_hey_!” Krav’s bitten down a little harder this time, sent a prickle of pleasure-pain down Taako’s spine. Before Taako can react, Krav’s nimble fingers start undoing his pants.

He reaches down to grasp Krav’s wrist. Kravitz’ hand stills immediately.

“Before we do this,” and Taako shifts so he can catch Krav’s eyes over his shoulder, “and I’d very much like to do this; it’s where I thought this night was going before you started in on all that—”

“Of course you did.”

“—anyway, I want to make it absolutely clear that I’m not taking bribes, capiche?” Kravitz looks confused, and Taako sighs. “I’m saying that if I decide to talk to Lucretia—tomorrow, or the day after, or, in fact, at any point in the future, it’s not because your cheap manipulation tactics worked. Us banging and me deciding to, hm, mend fences, will be completely unrelated. If it happens at all.”

“I should fucking hope so.”

“Okay.” Taako nods, and squirms to get Kravitz’ hand a little closer on target. “You may proceed, then.”

“You know, Taako, just for that, I should get up and walk away.”

“Yeah, but you’re not gonna.”

As about so many things, Taako turns out to be right. He lies splayed out on his back, warm lips exactly where he wants them, and looks up at the stars again. Really, they’re probably not so different to the ones Baby Taako gazed up at all those years ago. Maybe they are his, like Kravitz said.

As far as being right goes, Kravitz can’t be completely off base. He’s Taako’s boyfriend, after all.


End file.
